Perfection
by thevampirevivienne
Summary: Who is Parvati Patil?
1. Chapter 1: Nightmare

A/N

Yes, this is possibly the shortest chapter known to man. Yes, I have another story that I SHOULD be working on. However, this idea popped into my head and I couldn't NOT write it. As a warning to potential readers, this story will center on sensitive subjects(eating disorders). Read at your own discretion.

Chapter 1: Nightmare

I'm hungry. Sooo hungry. I can't take it anymore.

I'm off and running, dashing out of the portrait hole and skidding into the entrance hall.

Throwing open the doors to the Great Hall, I see a feast laid out. Soup, salad, pies- every food I could possibly imagine is there. My eyes zone in on my favorite- chocolate fudge cake.

A small part of my mind warns me not to eat it, to resist the temptation, but it's too late. I grab handfuls of it and shove it down my throat, not caring about my manners or my outfit for once. I sigh in bliss, feeling the chocolate goodness fill my stomach.

But then, the Great Hall disappears, and I'm somewhere else entirely. I'm in an unfamiliar room, surrounded by mirrors, all showing me the same horrible image.

Me. Fat, bloated, ugly. From all angles, at every turn, it's all I can see.

The bite of cake in my mouth turns chalky and disgusting, and I wake with a scream.


	2. Chapter 2: Breakfast?

A/N

So, I've decided that these are going to be pretty short chapters(as you can see). This means that I'll be able to update as soon as I have another little piece done, and also is more realistic(I think). Parvati in this story is going to be kind of...different from the person you read about in the books. I guess this is sort of AU-ish. Anyways, on with the story!

Chapter 2: Breakfast?

I wake up sweaty and disgusting from my bloody nightmare. My sheets are tangled around my legs, and the chalky taste in my mouth? Apparently I took a huge bite out of my Herbology essay. At least now I have an excuse to skip breakfast.

I disentangle myself, gather up my clothes, and head off to the bathroom before someone else wakes up and hogs it.

Turning the rusty knobs, I wait till the water temperature is just right. Sometimes I think the best part about Hogwarts is the fact that the bath water is always hot.

I scrub half-heartedly at my hair, trying to concentrate on the smell of raspberry shampoo, but I can't forget that dream. That horrible image.

As I dress, I can't hear the other girls moving about, so I take my sweet time carefully brushing out my hair and charming the sopping curls dry before I twist it into its customary braid.

I survey my face in the mirror. Dull brown eyes, too-chubby cheeks, and bushman brows. At least I don't have acne, though my pores are unflatteringly large.

Seeing as I have some extra time, I carefully line my upper eyelids with soft black kohl, and swipe on some clear gloss. At least now I'm nearly presentable.

Padding back out into the dorm, I slip on my shoes, pause to gather up my bag and the remains of my essay, and then make my way to the library.


	3. Chapter 3: All Alone

**A/N: I'm sooo sorry about the big gap. I sort of lost my muse, and had exams, etc. On the bright side, I have 4 new chapters for you all at once!**

Chapter 3: All Alone

After Transfiguration, I'm dead tired. That nightmare woke me up early, and I haven't been sleeping well lately. Add to that the dull, throbbing ache in my head, and I am not a happy camper. I have DADA in the afternoon with Snape, and if I'm going to survive, I need some rest.

I head up towards Gryffindor Tower but hear somebody calling my name.

"Parvati! Where are you going?" It's Lavender, my best friend who never has time for me anymore. I turn around, annoyed.

"What? I'm heading back to the Tower, duh."

"But it's time for lunch. Aren't you coming?" she asks, all wide-eyed innocence. I hate it, the way she can stuff her perfect face with as much food as she wants and never gain a pound. But then again, her mum's model thin. My mum's a traditional round Indian woman- almost as wide as she is tall.

Taking Lavender's thin frame, I know that I have a lot of work to do. I can't possibly eat lunch.

"My head's killing me right now…I think I'll go and have a bit of a lie-down before DADA. I'm not really hungry, anyways." It's not a lie. If I ignore my hunger long enough, it just goes away. I watch her face, hoping to see the tiniest bit of disappointment.

Nothing.

"Oh, okay. See you in class then!" And off she goes, with a bounce in her step that I'm not sure she had before. Is she actually happy to be rid of me? It saddens me for a moment, until I catch my reflection in a window. Plain, dumpy Parvati, resident fat girl of Gryffindor stares back. I realize that with the way I look, it's only to be expected.

I reach the common room, and suddenly I'm too tired to do anything except drop my bag and curl up on a couch. I stare into the crackling fire, letting the swirling patterns of flames lull me to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4: Will Is Not Enough

Chapter 4: Will Is Not Enough

I wake to voices.

"She looks tired." "But class starts soon, shouldn't we wake her?" It sounds like Ron and Harry.

"Parvati! Parvati, wake up!" And that is Hermione. She's nice, in her own bossy way. I wonder how she manages to stay thin. She's not as tiny as Lavender, but still much skinnier than me. Perhaps it's an English characteristic, being thin. I force my eyes to open and start to sit up.

"Oh…hello, Hermione, Ron, Harry," I say. "What time is it?" Hermione peers at me, frowning slightly.

"We just got back from lunch. We should probably start heading down to class right now," she says. "You're looking a little pale…why weren't you at lunch?" she adds. She seems a little concerned, and I feel a knot rising in my throat. Lavender should be here waking me right now, should be asking how I feel. Instead, it's the well-intentioned bookworm who is nice to just about everybody, no matter how repulsive they are.

"I'm fine," I say tonelessly. "I was feeling a bit tired after Transfiguration, so I came back to lie down a bit." Her expression clears.

"Oh yes…you were up so early today!" She noticed? I'm flattered. I smile, thank her, and straighten myself out before walking to DADA.

DADA gives me a chance to fade into the background entirely as Harry and Professor Snape antagonize each other. Thanks to Harry's DA training last year, I do fairly well in this class.

Next is Divination. We have Professor Trelawney this year, not Firenze. Too bad, he was quite cute. But I'm actually a little relieved. Now that I've realized how fat I am, I'd rather not make a fool of myself in front of Firenze. As I reach the top of the stairway to the North Tower, I find myself panting slightly. Beside me, Lavender doesn't seem at all ruffled. I'm so out of shape.

Divination isn't so much fun when I realize that even Professor Trelawney is glamorously thin. If she just got contacts, did something with her hair, and wore proper clothes, she could be a model or actress.

I stomp down the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, looking at all the thin girls around me. As I pass Madam Hooch, I realize that I am, in fact, the fattest thing in Hogwarts. How do they do it? Maybe skipping meals isn't enough…I should try Quidditch.

At dinner, I make sure not to overdo it. I take a small amount of salad, one piece of plain grilled chicken, and drink plain water. No carbs, just lean protein and greens. I force my eyes away from all the rich desserts and instead take another sip of water. My stomach grumbles, but I won't break.

_Willpower. Willpower. Willpower. Do it, you bitch._ It's my mantra to get me through dinner. Harsh words, perhaps, but I deserve them. It's hardest when I eat after skipping, because just the smallest amount of food makes me ravenous.

"Oh look, crème bruleé! Isn't that your favorite, Parvati?" I swear at Lavender under my breath. If she was any kind of best friend, she would know that chocolate cake is my favorite, just like I know apple pie and ice cream is hers.

"Here, have some!" She cheerfully hands me a dish, and I'm forced to take it or cause a scene. I carefully take the smallest amount possible, and slowly eat it as she beams at me. I hate how it tastes so good. Somehow, I can't stop myself from taking another small helping.

In the after-dinner rush, I turn around a corner near Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and slam right into none other than Pansy Parkinson, walking along with that weedy Nott boy.

"Watch where you're going, fatty," she snaps as she dusts herself off and sweeps past me. I stop dead, feeling bile rise in my throat. She's right, so right. I ate dessert, two helpings of it. Suddenly, I feel so much fatter. I can't stand it. I slam open the door of Myrtle's bathroom, but luckily the annoying whiner's not around.

I try to stick my finger down my throat, like I've heard a person is supposed to do, but I just end up gagging. I want to throw up so much, but no matter how many times I try, I can't.

I'm a failure.

I sink to the cold floor, wrap my arms around my knees, and try not to cry. Still, the stupid tears well up and spill over. I bury my face in my arms and knees, trying to get myself under control.

After a few minutes, I get up and rinse my face with cool water. My eyes look a little red, but I suppose I could explain that away as tiredness and possibly late hay fever. It's not yet October, after all.

I smooth down my skirt and shirt, then walk out and up to the common room to finish my homework. I'm nearly there when I remember that I need a book from the Library about for my Potions essay, so I turn around and trudge there.


	5. Chapter 5: The Library

Chapter 5: The Library

I'm so tired after my long day that I'm surprised to find the library tables quite full. Upon checking my watch, however, I realize that it's barely 8:30. Glancing around, I note that fully half the students present are Ravenclaws.

I even spot my sister in a corner, studiously writing away, but only because she's sitting with that cute guy from her house, Michael Corner. He used to be Ginny Weasley's boyfriend. I will never understand why that girl let him go.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as Padma makes some witty comment and he smiles back. It's incomprehensible. We're sister, twins, identical. So why am I fat, while she is pretty? Why am I stupid, where she is smart? Even if she was as plain as me- and she's not, with her silky dark hair and glowing eyes- she would still be able to chat up a guy. She's interesting, whereas all I can do is giggle like a bimbo.

Padma glances up, noticing me standing there. She smiles politely, but I pretend not to notice and turn away. I'll leave wallowing in self-pity for later, when I've finished my homework.

Wandering along the aisles, I stop as I reach the potions section. Idly flipping through a few books, I make my selections. Just as I'm about to leave, I notice a small black book stuffed into a corner of the top shelf. Something about it intrigues me, and I stretch to reach it.

I can, just barely. My one favorite feature is my height. At 5'7", I'm taller than Padma by a half inch and tower 5 inches above my mother.

Examining the book's cover, I can't find a title or author. I'm just about to open the book when I feel a prickle on the back of my neck. A shadow has fallen in the light of the lamps, one that's not mine. I grab my books and whip around.

It's Draco Malfoy. I remember his obnoxious tricks in first year, when he was only a skinny pointy-faced blonde boy. Now, he's tall and lean and…dare I say it? He's actually good-looking. Not drop-dead gorgeous or model perfect, but he's grown out of his previous rodent looks.

"Oh, sorry, Mudblood," he drawls. "Did I scare you?"

"Get your facts right, ferret," I snap back. "I'm as purportedly 'pure' as you." He looks surprised for a moment, before sneering.

"Are you? I doubt that. You wish you were, and you're just saying you are, because who would go all the way to India for confirmation?"

"Devious little rodent, aren't you? If you really want proof, look at your own magical histories. I'm a twin, and magical twins are rare. In fact, they've only ever occurred in supposedly 'pure' families."

I'm surprised at the hostile tone and the words spilling out of my mouth. It's all true, but I've never really been one to insult a person to their face. Sadly enough, I'm more of the trash-talking, back-stabbing mold.

A small, detached part of my mind registers that as we've been talking, we've moved closer to each other. I'm only about a foot away from him now, and I can smell his aftershave.

How annoying. It smells divine, and I can feel warmth heating my cheeks. I don't waste another moment, but dodge around him to go check out my books.


	6. Chapter 6: Little Black Book

Chapter 6: Little Black Book

Back in the common room, I spend about an hour churning out a decent essay for Slughorn, and get a good start on McGonagall's stupid assignment. Who cares about rematerialization? At 10:30, I switch to practicing the nonverbal charms Flitwick assigned us, with limited success.

Finally, I drag myself up to the dorms, pack my bag for tomorrow, and sink into my four-poster, quickly falling asleep.

I wake bleary-eyed the next morning, with unsettling dream-fragments lingering in my mind. Something about drowning in an inky black lake, and being saved by…who? I can't seem to recall much at all.

Once again, I've been jolted into consciousness far too early. It seems to be my routine now, waking up at ten to six. After a lovely shower, I glance at the mirror and decide to do something about the monstrosity that is my face.

I don't fully trust myself with cosmetic charms, but luckily, I have an unopened muggle cosmetic kit at the bottom of my trunk. I'm not sure what half the stuff in there is for, so I just brush on light pink eyeshadow, black eyeliner, and a soft blush. After carefully applying "lengthening mascara" and soft pink lipgloss, I step back and survey the results.

Not bad. The eyeshadow and blush make me look wide-awake and fresh-faced, and it's all subtle enough to make a difference without turning me into a clown. If only I could do something about my horrid uniform to make it more flattering.

Quietly, I slip out of the dorm and walk to the Library, intending to finish my Divination predictions. When I reach there, Madam Pince is nowhere to be seen. In fact, there isn't a soul in there, not even some of the more obsessive Ravenclaws.

I sit down at a table in a quiet corner and pull out my charts. In earlier years, I was a silly girl. I actually believed all of Professor Trelawney's predictions and all. I know better now. That first day, when she made all those impressive predictions- some of it was true, but the majority was just the result of keen observation.

Knowing that, Divination is an easy O for me. For my monthly prediction charts, I write down stuff that's liable to happen, throw in a few unfortunate situations, and quote the alignment of different stars and planets as reasons. Lavender still hasn't gotten the hang of it, for some unknown reason.

My chart finished, I realize that I still have some time to kill. I don't really want to go to breakfast. I remember that little black book I snuck out of the library yesterday, and pull it out to browse through its pages.

The pages are thin and fragile, yellowing. It's also written, not printed, in a slanting, old-fashioned hand. The ink has faded from black to brown, the lines thin and spidery. In an inner corner of the cover, I see a name- Elizabeth Prince. The date underneath is July of 1857.

I'm shocked that a book more than 100 years old can be in such good condition, but then I realize that Madam Pince and her predecessors would probably kill themselves if they let a book fall to pieces.

The front page has the words 'A Compendium of Beautifying Elixirs' written in calligraphy, with a sketch of a pretty girl underneath.

Suddenly, my heart is hammering. Beautifying elixirs might just do the trick. I've never been a Potions genius, but I'm not horrible at it either. Depending on how good this Elizabeth person was, this could be the cure for my horrid looks!

A small corner of my mind snidely points out that there will _always _be room for improvement, but I ignore it and flick through the pages, taking in the titles of the potions.

A cream for smooth skin, one to keep skin fair, and what looks to be a magical version of sunblock. Various hair potions. Recipes for various cosmetics. And, at the very back of the book, an untitled potion. It seems to be roughly scribbled down, but one line above the list of ingredients makes me catch my breath.

"For a slender, beautiful figure."

I wonder how many other girls had found this book, had used this same potion. No wonder all the Ravenclaws were slim! And Hermione Granger, too. They probably combed through the entire library once a week, so they must have found this book.

I almost head down to breakfast, but catch myself. I can't go about bingeing. The potion might be too hard for me to make, or the ingredients too hard to find.

Still, I have hope.

I make my way to Charms at a leisurely pace. When I reach, I insinuate myself next to Lavender, who doesn't seem to notice my arrival any more than she noticed I wasn't there at breakfast.

Idly, I wonder what would happen if everybody stopped noticing me. If I became accomplished in the art of virtual invisibility. Would I eventually fade away, little by little until I disappeared entirely?


	7. Chapter 7: Selfish

**A/N: Thanks for your review, Dizrhythmia! It motivated me to write out two more chapters!**

Chapter 7: Selfish

Distracted as I am by thoughts of a new, pretty Parvati, my efforts in Charms are sufficiently abysmal to make Flitwick assign me extra practice for homework.

"Wow…you're really out of it today," Lavender comments. For a moment, I wonder if she's going to ask why, but she just strides off to Care of Magical Creatures.

_Silly Parvati, expecting beautiful Lavender to care about you. _It's that sarcastic voice in my head, one that's been speaking up often lately. _Selfish too_, it continues. _You're not the center of the universe, you know. It's all right when you're kids. Anyone can be friends with anyone then. But now? That time is over. Grow up, little girl._

It's right. I know it, but I don't want to accept it. It'll all change, I tell myself. I'll make it change.

Unlike Lavender, I have Muggle Studies next. I used to think it was such a boring class, but I took it anyways for the relatively easy E. Now though, actually listening to Professor Burbage, instead of tuning out her annoyingly squeaky voice, I realize that what she's talking about is actually interesting.

I spend lunch in the Library, reading through a book I find on muggle history. It's quite interesting, especially one bit I read about some maniac called Adolf Hitler. He sounds like You-Know-Who.

The thought makes me shiver. Is there nowhere safe in the world? I don't know why the Sorting Hat put me in Gryffindor. I'm not brave, not at all. I'm a spoiled girl who likes her comfort zone.

On second thought, Gryffindor makes more sense. The Hat didn't put me there because I was brave. It was a last resort. I'm not smart enough for Ravenclaw, not loyal enough for Hufflepuff, and not…cunning? Evil? Ambitious? Whichever one, I lack the necessary qualities for a Slytherin.

Parvati Patil, dumped in Gryffindor because she couldn't possibly go anywhere else. The thought makes me sad. I wish I could go talk to Lavender, so that she could comfort me, or possibly make up a list of reasons why that wasn't true.

_You see? Only thinking of yourself_, the voice in my head says. _Lavender has other things to do than make up polite white lies to bolster your ego. _

I stare out a window, focusing not on the image I see but the colors themselves. Brilliant peacock blue, pure snow white, the deepest emerald green, with flashes of ruby and gold.

When the tears that threatened to overflow are under control, I take a deep, shuddering breath and carefully pack my books away. It'll all change, I promise myself. With that final thought, I prepare myself for the upcoming torture of Snape, Slytherins, and DADA.


	8. Chapter 8: The Replacements

Chapter 8: The Replacements

I reach DADA 5 minutes early, but that's not unusual. Everybody makes sure to arrive early for Snape. Harry, Ron, and Hermione are chatting in low voices near the door. My sister and all the other Ravenclaws appear to be reviewing their notes in a corner. Malfoy and his goons are leaning silently against a wall.

I stand like an idiot in the middle of the hallway, until I hear Lavender's voice behind me. I turn to see her chatting amiably with Victoria Frobisher and Sally-Anne Perks, who prefer to be called Vicky and Sal. So these are her new friends.

Jealously, I examine them. Neither of them are model-gorgeous, but they're not ugly either.

Vicky is tall, and if she was any thinner she'd be considered gawky. As she is, however, she reminds me of a ballerina- delicate and graceful. She's fair, with soft green eyes and brown curls she always ties up in a bun.

Sal was once a chubby girl, earning her the cruel nickname "Perky Porky." She's grown out of the chubbiness now. She's quite short, and very curvy. The boys have other, more vulgar nicknames for her now. Her laughing blue eyes shine in a round, pink-cheeked face framed by a straight, sandy bob. Cinnamon freckles dance across her upturned nose.

All in all, they complement Lavender much better than I do. I'd always wondered why she picked me to befriend that first year, instead of the other Gryffindor girls.

"Parvati!" Lavender's sunny voice jerks me out of my reverie. "Where were you at lunch today?"

"Oh, you know…the Library," I reply. She still likes me enough to note my absence…sometimes.

"You spend, like, every waking minute there!" she laughs, rolling her eyes. "Are you turning into your sister or something?"

I try and think of something to say, but Snape arrives and then talk is out of the question. It has to be the first and last time that I have ever been thankful that Snape existed.

**A/N: I know the last few have been short and relatively action-free, but this story does focus mostly on Parvati's thoughts. Also, I try and end them at what I feel is a good transition point. Hopefully, I'll have more exciting updates for you soon!**


	9. Chapter 9: The End of the Tunnel

**A/N: I'm so very sorry for the long wait! This chapter took a lot out of me, for some reason, and I'm still not completely happy with it. The chapters may be a while in coming, because I'm trying to decide where to take this story. In the meantime, this chapter is just a filler, like one of those bland, boring days that everybody has now and again.**

Chapter 9: The End of the Tunnel

Snape's class is hell on earth. Quite literally. He spends the whole class either lecturing us or letting us make fools of ourselves practicing. Just as the bell is about to ring, he makes a point of assigning loads of homework.

You'd think he wants us to hate him.

There's another reason I dislike his class, but it's silly enough that I haven't mentioned it to anybody else. The way he talks in class- it makes me feel as though he doesn't exactly disapprove of the Dark Arts. There's a weird, disturbing parallel between Snape's attitude and the way Harry used to talk to us in the DA. Harry clearly hates the Dark Arts, but he definitely respects what they can do.

I blink, wondering if I had actually entertained that notion that there was _any _similarity between Harry and Snape. My reasoning skills are obviously going out the window.

I just have Divination next, and then I can make an appearance at dinner, slump up to Gryffindor Tower, and collapse. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, which galvanizes me into walking a little faster.

Lavender hung back at the end of DADA, no doubt waiting for Ron. She hasn't mentioned liking him, but after 6 years of friendship, I know her like the back of my hand. I wonder, does she know me?

As I stagger up the last flight of stairs, I pause by a decorative mirror to catch my breath and scrutinize the girl inside it. _Reflecting on a reflection…how shallow_, the voice whispers.

I don't want to believe it. I don't want to listen to the blasted voice and its acidic insinuations. So why is it that I can't help but feel cut by its words?

_Maybe because you know I'm right_, it murmurs. _I'm part of you, your reality check when your dreams carry you away. I'll always be with you_, it hisses.

Needless to say, this does not boost my flagging morale.

I muster the energy I need to climb up to the Divination classroom, making sure to carefully choose a seat in the right place- in the front, yet in a corner and near a window. In this class, at least, Lavender sits with me and me alone. I'm selfishly happy to have my friend to myself, even if all we're doing is palmistry and chatting about star charts.

Professor Trelawney is thrilled with my predictions- I show the signs of a true Inner Eye! For a moment, I catch Lavender eyeing me oddly. Is she jealous? Jealous of me, the blimp? The very idea is laughable.

As soon as we are dismissed, I jump up and rush back to the dorm. I don't hesitate to divest myself of my heavy books and flop down on my bed. My stomach rumbles loudly, but thankfully there's nobody around to hear it.

I sigh with bliss as the softness of my bed envelops me. It's so warm and comfortable, and I'm so bloody tired… a nap wouldn't hurt. I kick off my clunky uniform shoes, draw the heavy velvet drapes, and curl up under the covers, letting my mind drift.

Here, cocooned in a hazy red world, I can unwind. Suddenly, all my problems- my fatness, my hunger, school and friends- fade away. It's as if nothing outside is real, as if I can go to sleep and it will all wash away.

I wish I could go to sleep forever.

Later, though I don't know how much- an hour? two? I hear footsteps in the hall and the door creaks open. Bedsprings creak and a dull thud tells me that whoever it is has unceremoniously dropped her books on the floor. Certainly not Hermione, then. A soft sigh; then footsteps again. Suddenly, a thump makes me jump.

"Ouch!" I hear Sal exclaim. "Ugh! What's this? Oh, I can't stand it when Lavender leaves her bloody shoes all over the place!" She slams the door unceremoniously on the way out.

It must be time for dinner, and I know I should probably go down to the Great Hall. Somehow, though, I'm too lethargic to move. It's not as if I need the extra calories.

I fall asleep without moving, still in my uniform.


	10. Chapter 10: Serenity Interrupted

**A/N: So, another chapter after a very long hiatus...sorry about that! Also, I'm not anorexic, so I don't know what the effects of not eating for a long period of time are. I made that up, so if it's wrong, my apologies.**

Chapter 10: Serenity Interrupted

Saturday mornings are magic. No classes, no obligations- nothing to stop me from sleeping forever and ever. Unlike most days, when I'm rudely jerked awake by my alarm clock (Padma bewitched it to shriek like a banshee- for my ears alone, so as to not disturb others), I drift awake slowly, luxuriating in a cocoon of warmth and silence. The muted glow of my hangings tells me it's a sunny day outside, and as I finally become fully alert, I feel the need to enjoy it. Running through my mental checklist of work- prediction charts, essay for Snape(three full rolls of parchment!), Charms practice, Transfiguration… I don't look forward to any of it.

Sod homework. I feel so utterly unmotivated, and I have all of tomorrow. This decision, unwise as it is, energizes me. The prospect of simply ignoring my responsibilities seems to lift a weight from my shoulders, and I finally sit up, ignoring the horrid state of my uniform. Throwing open the heavy drapes, I see that sunshine fills the dorm, and that it is only seven in the morning. None of my fellow Gryffindor girls are awake, but I did have an early night last night.

More than twelve hours of sleep can work wonders on a person. I feel lighthearted and cheerful as I shower, and for once I breeze out the door without once looking in the mirror. The only unpleasant moment comes when I'm trying to decide what to wear- the school uniform is out of the question. I survey the assortment of Muggle clothes in my trunk, and decide on loose black pants; a soft, fitted black shirt; and a plain black hooded sweatshirt over it. Hey, black is slimming, and they were comfortable.

I don't even bother doing anything to my hair- my plaits are still in from yesterday. Breakfast, of course, is out of the question. I'm doing so well without food, why break my streak now? Instead, I wander out to the grounds. The sunshine feels so good on my skin. I just want to lie down and soak it up. Ambling around the lake, I search for a private place, but there's little privacy by the shore. After a moment's hesitation, I slip into the Forbidden Forest.

Under the huge trees, the light is green and filtered. The air smells moist- not exactly unpleasant, but different. I feel the slightest rush of adrenaline. This place is forbidden for a reason, I'm sure. However, I doubt much harm could fall my way if I stick to the fringes of the forest during the daylight hours. After picking my way through the gnarled roots for a quarter of an hour, I suddenly arrive at a small clearing. It's ringed for the most part with bushes, but by ducking through a gap, I find myself in a sunny, grassy meadow.

A few blue flowers grow around the edges, and the sunlight shines strongly in the center. It's perfect. I lie back in the soft grass, absorbing the warmth and light. Sunlight is good for people, and I can bask in it for hours. No need to worry about sunburn; I'm an Indian, so I just tan.

I don't know how long I lie there. Hours, perhaps, or maybe only minutes. I slip in and out of sleep, enjoying the serenity and utter peace surrounding me.

I don't know how I first noticed the change. I heard a soft rustle of grass, but I assumed it was just a breeze, or perhaps a forest animal. Either way, I was too comfortable to move. After a few minutes, I felt a shadow fall over my face, making me alert at once. My eyes snapped open, and I saw a silhouette above me. The sun shone directly behind him, but my nose knew who he was.

"Malfoy." I kept my voice steady. "What brings you here?" What indeed? It unnerves me that he was standing there, watching me lie in the grass.

"I checked," he drawled. "It appears that you were right. So now…what does that make you? Not a Mudblood, but a blood traitor." The prick.

"What, so you interrupted my Saturday relaxation to spew some more of your elitist dribble and pollute my air? Thanks for sharing. You can go now," I snapped sarcastically.

"Hmm… I don't think so," he smirked. "You're almost as fun to rile up as the Golden Trio." He said it so scathingly that it could be nothing but an insult, and to prove his point, he draped himself on a large rock in the shadows. Annoyed, I jumped to my feet, or tried to. Black spots swam in front of my eyes, before my vision faded completely. Gasping, I staggered and put my hands out in front of me to find my balance and break my fall. Surprisingly enough, I felt hands on my shoulders, steadying me. As my vision returned, I found myself staring at Malfoy. Who knew? He had some modicum of human decency in him.

"What's wrong with you, Patil?" he frowned.

"I was lying down for a long time," I answered defensively, stepping away. He let his arms drop to his sides after a moment. The silence between us is slightly awkward and yet expectant. I can't think of anything to say- my previous plan of storming away in an angry huff was foiled by Malfoy's unexpected actions. Unfortunately for my, my stomach decides to speak for me, letting out an earthquake-like rumble that was probably heard in France. My cheeks flush as he raises a sardonic brow.

"So when was the last time you ate?" Oh God, what do I say now?

"Um. A while ago. So, uh, I have to go." With that stunning display of intelligence and wit, I turn on my heel and walk away as fast as I can without actually running.


End file.
